


Every Other Thursday

by tjs_whatnot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Post-War, Rimming, Romance, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-06
Updated: 2008-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-27 07:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10804977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjs_whatnot/pseuds/tjs_whatnot
Summary: It was supposed to be a game. Ron thought he knew the rules.





	1. Chapter 1: The Rules of the Game

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for hp_rarities at Live Journal

“Ron, why are you standing out here? Come inside,” Harry said, after opening the door to his home and finding a weather-worn and shivering Ron Weasley on his porch.

Ron looked as shocked to be discovered there as Harry was to find him. “Yeah, alright,” he finally said.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Harry asked, always thinking the worst from years of practice.

“Oh, me? Yeah fine. Why do you ask?” Ron said, looking around the room still as if dazed.

Harry was walking them into the kitchen, but stopped to look at Ron. Waiting for him to tell him why he had came so late without calling first and why he was so twitchy. Ron said nothing, almost walked into him actually.

Harry shrugged and continued walking, “Let me run this tea up to Ginny and then we will talk, okay?”

“What’s wrong with Ginny?” Ron asked.

“I don’t really know. She’s been razzing all day. She says she’s fine, but I’m taking her to a Healer tomorrow if she is still not feeling well.”

Harry was gone for about ten minutes and yet when he returned Ron had not moved from standing inside the kitchen door.

“Alright Ron, spill it.”

“What? Ah, well, can I get one of those cups of tea?”

“Only if you tell me what is going on,” Harry said, re-warming the tea kettle.

“Well…I…I don’t know where to start.”

“I find that the beginning is the best place for these things,” Harry said, now more bemused then concerned.

“Right. Well…you have to listen…I’m not sure you’re going to want to.”

“Has something bad happened?”

Ron glanced at Harry quickly and then back at the tea placed before him. “It depends on your definition of bad.”

“Merlin! Spit it out would you? Is it about you? Hermione? Me? Ginny? Who?”

“Well it’s about me…and Hermione…and…well, nothing bad there, really…not…”

Harry was just about to slap Ron to see if that would get him to talk sense, but Ron took a deep breath and that seemed to do the trick.

“You know Hermione and I have been married a long time, right?” Ron said, his first coherent sentence since entering the house.

“Yeah, what is it five, six years? About as long as Ginny and I.”

“Right. Well, you know that we’ve begun…um…experimenting with different…tech—”

“Yes. You’ve told me that. Wait. Are you going to tell me some new way of shagging each other? How many ways are there?”

Ron blushed, “Well Hermione says there are—”

“Forget it, I don’t want to know. So is this what you are all twitched about? Did you accidently give it to her up the—”

“No!” Ron almost shouted. “It wasn’t like that. Well, not really.”

Harry laughed, “Okay, _now_ I’m listening.”

Ron turned all the shades of red imaginable before he finally spoke again. “What I’m going to tell you stays in this room. Infact,” he pulled out his wand and whispered, “ _Muffliato_.”

Harry didn’t dare speak. He got the distinct impression that he was going to get a bit of juicy knowledge of the inner workings of his two best friends’ sex lives. A story that he would be able to live vicariously off of for months and even years to come. Not that Ginny and he didn’t have an adventurous sex life, it’s just that…well Hermione _knew things_ —researched things, and was much more experimental then any of them would have ever guessed.

“So, for a while now, maybe about a year ago, we started talking about perhaps introducing some other people into our…bedroom, ya know?”

“I’m flattered really, but—”

“Not you. Please just listen.” Ron hastily interrupted.

Harry was going to protest, why not him? What was wrong with him? But he kept his mouth shut. Again sensing that the time for teasing Ron was over…for now.

“So, last March…as a birthday surprise…Hermione asks…Fleur if—”

“You guys shagged Fleur last March and this is the—” Harry began loudly. Ron checked to make sure his silencing charm was still in effect as he flagged Harry to shut it. “How did you keep this to yourself for so long?”

“Having a threesome with your big brother’s hot wife is not something you want generally known as it makes Sunday Family dinners at the ol’ Burrow incredibly tense if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, but I’m your best mate, you could have—”

“But you’re also my brother-in-law, and in this situation, brother-in-law trumps best mate.”

Harry shrugged as if this made sense, “Does Bill know?”

“Yeah. But we have to pretend that he doesn’t. It’s a weird role playing thing they have. I don’t quite understand it, but if you thought Hermione and I have weird bedroom games, there nothing on Bill and Fleur’s antics.”

They were silent for a moment as they each imagined what that statement entailed.

“So, how was it?” Harry asked.

Ron smiled wickedly, “Right, fuckin’ hot!”

“Details,” Harry said.

“Well, you remember she’s part Veela right?”

“Uh, yeah. Pretty hard to forget that.”

Harry still had a hard time being in the same room with her and not letting impure thought invade his system, especially when he accidently got in the way as she was directing her powers to Bill. Well, that was the most uncomfortable dinner ever and he had to take Ginny to the garden for a quickie between courses to survive.

“Right. Well those Veela vibes that radiate around her? That’s only a fraction of the command she has over the libido, and it doesn’t only work on the males of the species either. Not when she’s really working it. Throw that in with the fact that she’s been trained in lovemaking by a semi-werewolf and…”

Ron took off his shirt and showed Harry the scars of the Veela’s lovemaking technique that were still visible. There was a bite mark on his collarbone and his back looked like he’d wrestled a sharp clawed animal.

“That’s nothing. You should see what the little vixen did to my poor Hermione.”

Harry closed his jaw long enough to ask for details and instantly regretted it as Ron went into graphic detail of their night of adventure and Harry grew uncomfortable in his seat.

Finally, Ron finished his play-by-play of the carnal knowledge of his sister-in-law and how enjoyable it was for both himself and his missus. Harry spent a few moments wondering how he could convince Ginny of something like this when it dawned on him again—

“Hey, your birthday was in March, it’s now almost October. You waited over six months to tell me this? Why now?”

Ron turned violently red again for some incomprehensible reason. “Well, it’s not really my birthday present I wanted to talk to you about.”

Harry laughed despite himself, “Who did you give to Hermione?”

Ron looked down at the ground, rubbing at the back of his neck vigorously and then mumbled, “Krrrrm.”

“What was that?” Harry said, obviously wanting to hear it again.

“Krum,” Ron said barely audibly.

“Vicky?” Harry bellowed.

Ron looked at him but couldn’t hold the glance.

“Vicky?” Harry asked again.

“Viktor, yeah.” Ron finally acknowledged.

The silence around them was split almost instantly by Harry’s strangled guffaws. He stood up, flipped his chair around and leaned on the back, chin on arms, “Okay, this I gotta hear.”

Ron leaned back, crossed his arms and legs and glared at him. “I ain’t saying anything about anything until you stop laughing.”

Harry held his finger up, “Then you’re going to have to wait a minute. I got to get this picture out of my head.”

“What picture? You better not be imagining my wife in some—”

“Wronski…Wronski Feint,” Harry got out through chest-clenching laughter.

“Very funny. Are you almost done?”

“Yeah, almost.”

Ron waited.

And waited.

Finally.

“Okay, give it to me now. I promise. I no longer find this funny. In fact, I’m horrified. Truly. Stunned.”

“Fuck off.”

Now Harry had to wait, to prove himself.

“So, I went to Viktor and I propositioned—”

“You what?”

“I asked him if he’d like to join Hermione and I.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that.”

“Liar.”

“What does it matter how it happened? I asked him, he agreed, that’s all you need to know.”

“Okay, go on.”

“So on her birthday, I make her dinner and she’s a bit suspicious when I make Banitza and Kavarma Kebap.”

“Banti Kava wha?”

“It’s Bulgarian food. Are you going to let me tell you this or not? I really need your advice on something and I don’t think you’re going to be able to give it if you don’t hear the story.”

“I’m sorry, carry on. You were making dinner,” Harry said, and he actually sounded like he was going to stop taking the mickey out of his friend. Or at least try.

“He comes for dinner. At first it didn’t seem like it was going to work. We were all so uncomfortable, ya know. It was different then with Fleur; with her, we all knew each other, had a history so different from the one with Viktor. But he seemed…um…eager to…well, after dinner we move to the sitting room for drinks and then…then…it happened.”

“Right there in the sitting room?” Harry asked, making a mental note never to sit on anything at their house ever again.

“Yeah, there and then in the hallway, the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen the next morning, then—”

“The next morning! How long did this last?”

“Ah, let’s just say it was a long weekend.”

After a pause Harry asked the question it sounded like he really didn’t want to know the answer to, “How was it?”

Ron looked like he really didn’t want to answer. Finally, barely audible he said with a shrug, “It wasn’t all that bad.”

“What did you…? Did you…? Did he…?” Harry couldn’t finish any of his questions.

“No, it was nothing like that, not really. I mean, we didn’t…didn’t fuck, but…”

“But what?” Harry asked, leaning on two legs of his chair precariously.

“Well, there was touching and stuff, I mean if three people are in the same bed, there will be touching involved with all of them. And then, there’s…well, I forgot about Hermione’s fascination with watching…things being…well, she likes to watch.”

“Yeah? What did she watch?”

Ron reconsidered whether this conversation would have any beneficial aspects at all. Feeling the heat on his face flaming red hot, he realizing it was too late now and went on. “Well, I was surprised really to how receptive Viktor was to all of this and found myself getting caught up in the energy of the moment. There was, well like I said, touching and stuff and then next thing I know, I…well, I had his cock in my hand and then before I could say anything, he…well, he was…sucking me off.” He gulped and looked down at the floor.

Meanwhile, Harry had leaned further forward to make sure he didn’t miss anything and consequently fell out of the chair, almost taking Ron with him in his cascade to the hardwood flooring of the kitchen. He corrected himself swiftly and with very little embarrassment.

“Viktor Krum sucked your cock?”

Ron continued to study the floor but nodded his head slightly.

“How was it?” Harry asked despite himself.

It took a long time but finally Ron met his eyes. “It wasn’t bad. I mean, Hermione is good, don’t get me wrong. But Viktor has these really strong hands and well, obviously, he knows what a good hummer feels like, right?”

Harry guessed he’d have to agree with that. But he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t get the image of Viktor on his knees out of his head.

“So what advice do you need?” Harry asked.

“Well, here’s the thing. Viktor, well, he’s been owling me. He wants to see me again.”

“Really?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Ron said, offended for some reason.

“Well, I just thought, well, I thought Viktor was a bit of a ladies’ man.”

“That’s just it,” Ron said, looking at Harry with pleading to be understood eyes, “He said he’s never felt this way before. He doesn’t know what to do with these feelings and he wants to see me.”

“Wow,” Harry said. “So, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I came to you. I need some advice.”

“What does Hermione think?”

“I haven’t told her yet. Don’t worry I will. I won’t do anything that she doesn’t agree with, but I, well I got to figure it out for myself first. If I decide not to pursue it, there’s no reason she needs to know.”

“True. What do you think she’d say?” Harry asked, clearly stalling.

Ron shrugged. “I don’t know. She does truly believe in experiencing everything and never letting fear stand between you and happiness.”

“As do we all,” Harry agreed.

“Right, so she’d embrace the new experience part, but, I don’t know, she does get possessive sometimes.”

“And you _never_ do.”

Ron grinned, “Well, from time to time.”

Harry snorted and Ron laughed alongside him.

Soon Ron was once again looking at Harry for wisdom and his opinion.

“This is a lot to take in. Do you mind if I sleep on it?” Harry asked.

Ron’s face fell. “Sure.”

“I just need a day, promise.”

“Yeah, of course, only…” Ron remembered why it was hard sometimes to confide in Harry. There was Harry his best mate in the world and Harry his sister’s husband. Most of the time it didn’t come up, but sometimes—well sometimes there were things he just wished to keep out of the family arena. “This has to stay between us.”

“Of course.”

“No really, you can’t say anything to Ginny…ever.”

“I won’t.”

“How?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Well, I tell Hermione everything, and I’m pretty sure that you tell Ginny everything as well, so how can you promise that you won’t tell her this?”

“Ah, well there is why you are lucky. I do tell her everything that she asks. But she specifically told me she doesn’t want to know anything about any of her brothers’ sex lives.”

Ron sighed in relief, “Good. That’s actually a good policy to have, especially knowing what I do about Bill and Fleur. And I’ve heard rumors about Charlie as well.”

“Jeez, and I thought I was marrying the hellcat Weasley,” Harry said wistfully.

Ron studied him, “And she’s not?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“No, nope, sorry no,” Ron said.

 

***

Harry promised he would think about Ron’s dilemma—if he could call it that—and get back to him in a few days with some good solid advice.

Meanwhile, Ron came home from work the next night to find Hermione sitting up in bed with books circled around her. Ron had long ago stopped thinking this was a bad sign. Usually the books Hermione brought to the bedroom these days were beneficial to them both and not about historical witches and wizards or about the Elf Rights pact of ’05 that she was busy trying to get passed through. No, the books that made it to the bedroom were more like study guides about something else Hermione discovered she was passionate about—passion.

It had started as a joke. Ron had found a Muggle copy of the Karma Sutra and had given it to Hermione on their first anniversary. She was fascinated for a long time with the positions and the adornments. Then she needed more information on some of the maneuvers, so she went looking for magical guides; ones that showed the speed and force needed for full satisfaction of both partners. It became an obsession. An obsession that Ron fully supported.

Going to his wife and planting a kiss on her puffed hair falling out of its ponytail he looked at the book she was currently reading, _When Wands Won’t Work: Keeping Love Alive the Natural Way_.

“Whose wand doesn’t work?” Ron asked, going to the bathroom to brush his teeth; hoping Hermione would make a place for him on the bed amongst her research.

Hermione ignored him, “So I was reading some very interesting data. Do you know that because of the age of consent and the extended life of wizard kind that statistically wizard…”

Ron heard the word statistical and tuned the rest out. No good came out a sentence that had the word statistical in it. He had learned that the hard way. Repeatedly.

“…so that’s what I was thinking, what do you think?” Hermione finished.

“Think?” Ron asked, hoping for a clue to what he was supposed to be thinking about.

“Yeah, about Date Night?” Hermione said.

“Date Night? Well, I think that’s a great idea,” Ron said, shrugging at his reflection as he spit out his paste. He wasn’t sure what Date Night meant, but how could it be bad?

“I was thinking maybe every other Thursday. There would be no guilt, no questions asked. It would be a time for us to try new things with new people and bring it back and share our new knowledge without the details. I think if we do it responsibly and realistically no one will get hurt, don’t you?”

Ron had finished in the bathroom and stood at the door watching his wife. It took him a very long time to say anything, and when he did, all he could get out was, “Huh?”

She looked at him, “You weren’t listening were you?”

Ron looked sheepish, “You used that word.”

“Statistical? Ooops, sorry. I know what a turn off that is for you. Come over here and let me explain it with more enticing vocabulary.”

“Really?” Ron said, shrugging off his robe, “Will there be pie-charts? Graphs?”

Hermione shoved all the books unceremoniously off the bed and blew out the candles, “Yes, there will be pie-charts…and a pop quiz.”

Ron loved the lecture. He was always learning new things.

***

Ron sat at his desk, contemplating the parchment in front of him. His owl, getting impatient, began nibbling at his finger. He was grateful when a knock on the door allowed him to put aside the correspondents.

“Come in.”

Harry walked in. This time he was the one who looked dazed and Ron’s turn to be concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…it’s just…well Ginny…she’s…she’s…going to have a baby…we’re going to…”

Ron was on his feet in an instant, picking up his best mate and spinning him around. “Congratulations. Wow! You are going to be a father! I’m going to be an uncle…again!”

“I’m going to be sick. Let me down,” Harry said.

Ron dropped him, “So, is this why Ginny was sick last week?”

“Yeah, she’s six weeks along. I still can’t believe it. I’m seriously just…well…speechless.”

“You want to get a drink? Celebrate?”

“Actually yeah. Ginny is at The Burrow with your mom and Hermione and all them, so a drink would be great.” Harry said, then he pointed to Ron’s desk, “Weren’t you doing something though?”

“Uh, yeah, but it can wait…I was just…never mind.”

“Tell me over a pint?”

“Sure,” Ron said, ushering Harry out of his office.

They made their way to a small pub just outside of Diagon Alley. It was far enough away from the wizard community at large, but close enough so the vibrations of magic made Muggles uncomfortable and therefore not a lot of customers. They had found it during their Auror training and had kept it a secret.

After a few pints and after they had come up with about a dozen implausible baby names, Harry remembered there was something they need to talk about.

“So, did you make any decisions about Viktor?”

Ron slowly finished drinking his pint with loud swallows. Wiped his lips with the back of his arm before answering, “Not really, although, Hermione did spring date night on me.”

“Date night?”

“Yeah. It seems she has done some research…” Ron noticed Harry’s eyes doing the same thing his did when Hermione started talking about statistics, “No, this is good, really. In this research she has found that because men and woman get mated at such young ages, relatively speaking and because we live so long, there are bound to be frictions in any monogamous relationship. She says that when done right, a…a…what do the Muggles call it? Right, an open marriage can be helpful to keep the flame light, or some such waffle.”

“Yeah, but what does that mean?” Harry asked.

“It means that every other Thursday, Hermione and I are free to see other people.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, as long as we don’t talk about it, we don’t bring the other person home and the other person is fully aware of what is going on.”

“And you are okay with this?”

Ron shrugged, “I don’t know. Part of me wonders what is out there. I mean, Hermione is the only person I have ever been with. Sure, I have been with other people and her, but never without her. I love her, but still, I wonder. Wonder what I’d be without her, with someone else. Every other Thursday.” Ron sounded nervous, as if he was trying to convince himself of something.

Harry interrupted Ron’s meltdown to ask, “And you’re okay with Hermione, well, with Hermione being with other people?”

Ron stopped looking around and focused. “Oh, well…I guess I haven’t even thought of that. Right, she brought it up; she obviously wants…wants to be with…why? Why do you think she wants to be with someone else?”

“I dunno. Probably the same reason you want to. She’s never been with anyone else either. Maybe it’s just curiosity. You know how she likes to do her research. But if you don’t want her to be with other people, then it sort of means that you can’t be either.”

“Right, of course. That would be hypocrisy, wouldn’t it? But I don’t know if I really do want that. What do you think?”

“You want to know, honestly?” Harry asked, getting up to get another pint for them.

Ron thought long and hard while he waited for Harry to return, “Yeah, I want to know. Be honest.”

Harry took a deep swallow from his lager before answering, “Honestly. I disagree with Hermione. Yeah, wizards live long lives, but it doesn’t matter. If you are living it to its limit, get all the joy out of it that you can, it doesn’t matter; it’s too short. Will having an every other week fling with Viktor Krum or any other person that turns your fancy make you happy? Well, I guess you won’t know until you know, but I think you want to find out. So, do what makes you happy and if it makes Hermione happy as well, all the better.”

Ron beamed like Harry had turned into St. Nick, “You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it.”

“And it won’t make me…you know…”

“Gay?

“Yeah.”

“Who cares? Do you think you’ll be gay? Do you think you’ll want to leave Hermione and run away with Viktor?”

“No, of course not,” Ron objected.

“Then don’t worry about that. Right?”

“Alright then.”

***

The next Thursday he kissed his wife goodnight, tried not to notice how beautiful she looked, and made his way to his Apparition spot. He had arranged to meet Viktor for a drink. Only a drink. He had also agreed to go to meet Viktor half way for that drink. It wouldn’t do for their first Date Night to run into his wife and whoever her date was.

It only took him three Apparition jumps to get to his rendezvous in Austria, but finally around 8:30 p.m. he walked into The Eagle Bar and instantly wanted to walk right back out. The place looked like an international meeting place for half-naked men, as that was all there was, surrounded by flags of all countries. He felt as if the entire bar turned to look at him; him and his two layers of clothes.

“Ronald, over here,” someone, who could only be Viktor, called from across the bar, under a large Union Jack flag. _How considerate of him_ , Ron thought, _trying to make me feel at home._

“Sorry I’m late, have you been here long?” Ron asked.

“No. Just came from practice. I am sorry. I did not know this place would be so…vell so, how do you say…queer? I just thought ve could talk.”

“Sure, we could talk. And really, this is fine. A little overwhelming when first entering, but hey, we’re around men, we could talk of sports all night and not once get reprimanded.”

Viktor smiled and Ron couldn’t remember if he had ever seen him do that before. It seemed unlikely that he hadn’t, but if he had, he really should have remembered it. It was a stunning smile. One of those ones that lit up his whole face and transformed him.

“Vat vould you like to drink?” Viktor asked, getting up.

“Ah, just a pint, thanks.”

He watched Viktor walk to the bar. The bar wasn’t as crowded as Ron had first imagined when he entered, but there was still quite a den of flesh all around him. He was thankful that Viktor too was fully dressed. He watched the way the bartender flushed and the way the boys around the bar studied Viktor and Ron couldn’t help feeling a little proud that Viktor was there with him.

When Viktor came back to the booth, Ron cast a Muffliato spell so that they could talk without worry of being overheard. They spent hours and a half dozen pints between them talking of their school years, Quidditch, the war, Quidditch, their everyday lives, Quidditch. Ron was amazed at how he was enjoying himself. Having had most of the friends and loved ones in his life since the age of eleven, he didn’t know how it would be making new friends. By the time the bar closed, he felt, if nothing else, Viktor and he could be friends.

The bar was closing, and had put up their lights before they began talking of Hermione.

“She knows you are here?” Viktor asked.

“No. No and yes. She knows I am out. She just doesn’t know with who or where.” Ron said and then told Viktor about Date Night.

“She is very special, your Hermoynee.”

“Yes. Yes she is, it took me more time than it should have to figure it out, more time than it took you, but I came around finally. Thank Merlin.”

“It vas easy for me. I vas not used to the girls like her. She vas one of kind for me.”

Ron smiled. Up to that night, hearing Viktor talk that way about his wife would have incensed him, but now? “Yeah, she is one of kind.”

After being asked to leave the closed bar, they made their way down the street; Ron didn’t really want to leave, but he didn’t want to ask to stay either. “This was fun,” he said.

“It really vas. So, ve can see each other again in two veeks?” Viktor asked.

“If you’d like,” Ron answered.

Viktor stopped walking and turned to Ron, “I vould,” he said, leaning in. Ron panicked for a minute and Viktor straightened back up awkwardly. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I just…well, I guess I wasn’t expecting you to want to kiss me.”

“I have vanted it all night.”

Ron gulped, “Really?”

Viktor nodded and began walking again, obviously not wanting to be standing there embarrassed while he confessed his desires.

“I didn’t know vhat I expected from this night, but I guess I vanted to make sure that my yearning to see you vasn’t because of that night and of the two of you. I didn’t expect this pull to you. I listened to everything you said, really I did. But I spent most of the time vatching your lips. You must have noticed.”

Ron shook his head. “My lips?”

“Yes, yours.”

They walked on in silence.

“Is there nothing of me that you are desiring?” Viktor asked.

Ron gulped, “I have to pick only one?” He took Viktor’s hand and stopped them both again. “These…these are what I couldn’t take my eyes off all night.”

“These? My hands?”

“Yes,” said Ron. He twined his own long fingers around Viktor’s strong, meaty ones. “As you talked tonight I remembered the first time I saw you and these hands were clutching a broom. These hands caught the Snitch rather then watch your team be humiliated—”

“Aw, I’m still getting the shit for that. Some believe that we could have von, given more time.”

“Yes, but you knew; you knew that you never mess with Ireland when Quidditch is on the line.”

Viktor smiled and Ron remembered that was the second thing that he liked best about Viktor. “Then I remembered when I saw you again and you were at Hogwarts signing autographs and being ogled by all the girls and keeping your cool throughout. Then finally, I think about that night, Hermione’s birthday, and your hands. One hand on me and one hand in my wife.” Ron raised their hands to his lips and kissed Viktor’s palm lightly.

Viktor moaned. “Those lips.”

Ron kissed his other palm, “Ah, those hands.”

***

Those hands were all that Ron could think about for the next three days. The hands and how stupid he had been to shy away when Viktor had tried to kiss him. At the time, it had felt too soon and that he wasn’t ready, but the next day, he felt as if something had slipped away.

He would have been haunted by the missed moment for longer if he hadn’t gotten a owl from Viktor at work the next morning saying how much he enjoyed their “Date” and he couldn’t wait for the next Thursday that Ron could come and see him.

His relief at the letter woke him up to his surroundings and the pip in his wife’s step as well. He was tempted to ask her, had it on the tip of his tongue the whole weekend, but he couldn’t. That was the arrangement. There was no talking about Date Night. No talking about why his wife looked so satisfied, so taken care of and definitely not about who had shown her that move she did with her hips that night.

***

“You like?” Viktor asked.

Ron had just knocked on the door of a small cabin in the forests of Romania where Krum sometimes hid himself from the public eye. There was a blazing fire in the hearth and only a few pieces of furniture. Ron noticed the large bed in the corner and gulped.

“Relax.”

“Oh yeah, no, I’m not nervous, not really, sort of, not really nervous no.”

“So you always talk this vay?”

Ron smiled, “Actually, yeah. I do tend to get tongue-tied from time to time. You don’t?”

Viktor puffed out his chest, “No. Never.”

Ron was in front of him in a split second. Standing a fraction of an inch from Viktor’s hooked nose, he tilted his head, “Never?”

This time Viktor gulped loudly, “Uma ah, na.”

“Didn’t think so,” Ron said, stepping back.

He heard Viktor sigh and he smiled wickedly.

“You vant something to drink?”

“Sure. I’m a bit parched,” Ron answered.

Viktor brought over two mugs of warmed mull-wine. “This is Bulgarian vine dating back to an ancestor who ruled all of country in 803.”

Ron nodded and took the warmed cup. He sat on the floor in front of the fire. The cup warmed his hands and the fire warmed the rest of him. Krum sat beside him, very close beside him. “You hungry?”

“Not really, just need to get the chill out. It’s really cold out there, I—”

Viktor placed his large arm around Ron’s shivering shoulders and instantly Ron felt the heat rise to his face.

“Better?” Viktor asked.

Ron nodded, staring intently at the fire; knowing that one turn of the head would change his life forever and wanting the change and being terrified of it as well. The minute that it took him to take the leap seemed to drag on and he could feel Krum’s eyes on him, pulling him to the decision. Finally he turned his head and the parallel thoughts of, _you want this, you really want this,_ and, _he’s a bloke, what are you doing with a bloke,_ were forgotten as Viktor’s lips touched his.

It was a soft, exploratory kiss, testing the waters, feeling for reactions and a sign that there could be more. Lips on lips, slight pucker to indicate it was something more than a chance encounter of body parts. This was intentional and wanted and after a moment, Viktor parted his lips slightly and his tongue snaked lightly around Ron’s lips, not asking for entrance, not being that bold, just wanting to savor the taste of him. Viktor moaned, “Those lips.”

Ron wouldn’t understand until much later why those words had instigated in him the desire to be with Viktor; really be with him. The hunger surprised them both in its voracity. Ron snaked his arms around Viktor’s waist and pulled him tightly to an embrace. Now it was Ron’s turn to explore Viktor more, but his tongue was not as hesitant and was more demanding. It pushed its way past Viktor’s parted lips and found what it sought; Viktor’s tongue.

The wet, hot pulsing of tongues and lips and shared space was too much for Viktor as well. He opened himself up wider and began fighting for dominance of Ron’s mouth. It seemed like worlds had ended and begun again in the span of that kiss. When they finally pulled away, it was only to catch their breath and begin again.

Ron was pretty sure it wasn’t the fire that was warming his body and making the wearing of clothes unnecessary and it certainly wasn’t the fire that made him want to feel Viktor’s skin against his own, but suddenly he couldn’t get them both naked fast enough. He pulled and tugged at his own clothes and Viktor’s; not wanting to pull away long enough to utter the incantation that would do it for him. Besides, he needed the physical--the forcing of buttons and the pushing up of shirts, soothing his almost violent hunger to crush this man to him.

Their naked torsos melded together as Ron ran his fingers through Viktor’s hair, tugging at the back of his head, forcing Viktor’s head back to expose his throat to Ron’s tongue; sucking on his protruding Adam’s apple. The deep moan in Viktor’s throat reverberated on Ron’s lips; sending shivers down his back and arms. Snaking his tongue along Viktor’s jawline, Ron seized his earlobe in his teeth and bit down. Viktor moaned again, “Those lips.”

Still holding on tightly to each other, Ron stopped what he was doing and looked into Viktor’s eyes. “What would you like these lips to do?”

Viktor’s eyes glittered and his smile was wicked. “Vhat don’t I vant from those lips.”

Ron wound his fingers along Viktor’s shoulders, biceps and arms, took his hands, and brought them both to his lips. “My hands? Vhat can I do?”

Now Ron smiled wickedly. “I guess we can figure this out. Right?”

“Absolutely, how hard can it be?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never done anything like this, you?”

Viktor shook his head, “Only vith you.”

“Right, so we’ll learn together.”

Viktor moved slowly back to Ron’s lips.

Never breaking the kiss, Ron pushed Viktor onto his back, straddling him. Now Viktor’s hands seemed on a crazed mission to remove what remained of their clothes. Ron let him fumble with his zipper just to have his hands on him, but he had to lie beside him to work the bottoms down. Sliding his own clothes off, Viktor sat up to work off Ron’s.

There was a look in Viktor’s eyes that Ron couldn’t explain but it once again drove him to uncontrollable want. He reached up and grabbed Viktor’s head and brought him mouth forcibly down to his, driving his tongue violently into Viktor’s, instigating a guttural growl from Viktor as he took Ron’s throbbing cock into his meaty hands and squeezed almost painfully.

Ron rolled them around on the rug so that he was now on top and began laying wet, sloppy kisses down Viktor’s jaw line, neck and shoulders. Viktor began to stroke Ron’s cock with increased speed as Ron’s tongue plunged into Viktor’s ear, breathing hotly against his skin. His breaths turned to gasps as he got close to climax.

Fighting the urge to bite hard onto Viktor’s ear, he needed to release the pressure he felt climbing up his body, reverberating from the middle outward, he took Viktor’s hand, the one that wasn’t stroking him, and began sucking enthusiastically Viktor’s thumb as if his orgasm depended on it. Viktor slowed his strokes down, as if to prolong the moment and to drive Ron over the edge with his need to be sated, so that Ron found himself pumping furiously into Viktor’s large hand, until finally, he came all over Viktor’s stomach.

“Oh, those hands,” Ron finally got out after he began breathing again and collapsed on top of Viktor.

Viktor took Ron’s face in his hands and brought it forward to claim his prize. Ron kissed him deep before he once again began to kiss his way down Viktor’s body, lathing Viktor’s immense chest, pecs and stomach.

Ron got on his knees and lifted one of Viktor’s legs and from the back of the knee to the inside of his thigh; he suckled, sipped and nibbled. After, he looked into Viktor’s eyes, but they were glazed over. But he could see the hunger in every muscle of him, specifically the one right in front of him, as he wetted Viktor’s sac, slowly taking one in his mouth and then the other.

The moan that issued from Viktor was low and guttural and the hands that were suddenly in Ron’s hair were vicious in their impatience. “Please, please,” was all he could get out.

Looking at him with a wicked smile, licking his lips in a way calculated to drive Viktor closer to the edge, he slowly bowed his head once more over Viktor’s cock. Ignoring the balled fists tugging at his hair, Ron slowly ran his tongue along the shaft, taking the tip into his mouth and twirling it with his tongue.

Viktor pivoted his hips, forcing himself into Ron’s mouth. Expecting it, Ron opened his throat and took him in, slurping loudly as he sucked hard. Viktor relaxed his hips, but Ron wouldn’t let him slide out and putting his hands on both arse cheeks, took even more of him in. Viktor cried out.

Slowly dragging his teeth gently up his length, Ron began to work Viktor’s cock, deeper and faster each time. While his mouth did its job, his hands began to massage Viktor’s backside in strong circles; each time getting closer and closer to the place he’d never been before. And while part of him was incredibly excited and unbelievably turned-on by this whole experience, the other part was terrified to take it to that place.

Finally, curiosity and Viktor’s urgings won out and Ron spread his cheeks apart and with one middle finger, teased his way into Viktor’s hole. The whimper Viktor emitted was almost instantly replaced with his thunderous growl of orgasm.

Ron hadn’t even thought about what he was going to do with Viktor’s come before he swallowed down almost instinctually. Viktor beamed at him and pulled him up for an embrace. Ron wrapped his arms around him and just held him close, not ready yet to look him in the eyes. The images, voices and thoughts that assault him overwhelmed Ron and made him weak all over.

He never expected to feel this way; never imagined that it would mean as much as it did. It was just supposed to be sex…fucking…getting his rocks off. And it was that, or would one day be all of that; but he also thought it could be something else as well, and that is what shocked him. What was that feeling and what did it mean?

“Ronald?”

“Hmmm.”

“Vas that…enjoyable?”

Ron took a deep breath and separated himself from Viktor enough to look him in the eye. There was that look; that look would be the death of him, he could almost see it in his future. He swallowed the fear and smiled weakly, “Call me Ron.”

“RRRon,” Viktor said, rolling the r experimentally.

Ron laughed and kissed him tightly, wanting to return to the time when he didn’t think so much.

“No one had ever done that before,” Viktor said after Ron released him.

“You’ve never been sucked off?” Ron asked, his incredulity winning over his angst for a moment.

“Not that. Vhat do you take me for? I am an international star; of course I’ve had that. Lots of that. But no one has ever, vell, you know.”

“Oh, that,” Ron said, “Me either.”

“Do you vant me to—”

“Nah, maybe later. I just want to lay here now.” Ron said.


	2. Chapter 2: Breaking the rules

That night when he returned home, Hermione was not yet in. He decided to take a shower and try not to imagine where she was. When he got out of the shower half an hour later, she was there. She looked as if she had taken a shower before coming home. He didn’t want to think about that either.

Instead, he wanted to take her and just hold her. Which is exactly what he did. They didn’t talk, didn’t do anything except fall asleep in each other’s arms. It was exactly what he needed.

The next day he got an owl from Viktor with a card thanking him for the night before and hoping that they would see each other again on the Thursday after next.

Ron wasn’t sure if he could. He wanted to, Merlin did he want to. But, he didn’t know if he could face the rampant feelings assailing his mind at the very thought of Viktor. Deciding running and hiding wouldn’t be a very Gryffindor thing to do, he replied that perhaps this time they could go out; maybe have some dinner, enjoy a Muggle entertainment such as a movie or a play.

That weekend he took his wife away. They first stopped to see Harry and his sister at their place. Ginny looked fantastic, even Ron had to see that. There was a definite glow to her that had been only hinted at before. They had some dinner and talked about work, friends and how things were going. There was no talk of Hermione and Ron’s new deal, obviously, and Ron tried all night to push it out of his mind.

After dinner, Ron took Hermione to an Inn they had discovered while honeymooning in Europe all those years ago. It was in the Swiss Alps and it was a nice quiet place to get away for a weekend. While all the other guests enjoyed themselves on the slopes, they kept themselves inside, snuggled up with a fire that neither died nor required logs.

Oddly, the only time that he was successful in blocking out thoughts of Viktor was while he was making love with his wife. Only then was he able to focus. It was only then that it was just the two of them and no other in their bed. So, he was shocked when she was the one to say, “Whatever you are doing on your Thursday nights is well worth it.”

“What?” Ron asked.

“Well, I don’t mean,” Hermione seemed flustered, as if she accidently uttered those words and now they couldn’t be taken back. “I just meant, the time you took, the care you paid, and well that thing you did with your mouth. That was truly enjoyable.”

“Oh,” Ron said and let Hermione snuggle herself under his chin, rubbing her back unconsciously. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can, doesn’t mean I’ll answer,” Hermione said.

“Right. Well, I was just wondering. Aren’t you the slightest bit curious about where I am on Thursdays, who I’m with? Aren’t you the slightest bit worried, jealous?”

Hermione propped up on one elbow and looked him in the eyes. “Curious? Jealous? More then you’ll ever know. When you come home I try not to breathe too deep so I won’t smell her on your clothes, so I won’t feel her magic surround you. I force myself to stay out of your mind when you sleep.”

“That’s not funny,” Ron said.

They had both taken classes in Occlumency and Legilimency when Ron was studying to be an Auror and they both had gotten rather good at it, especially with each other. They had made an agreement though that it would never be used. They already knew too much about each other as it was, without seeing every little detail of each others’ thoughts. Besides, Ron thought now, some things are better off not known.

Hermione was smiling, “I never would, you know that. But yes, I am curious and I am a bit jealous, but worried? Not in the slightest, you want to know why?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, suddenly realizing that he was not worried either and wanting to know if they weren’t for the same reasons.

“Because, I know that you know there is nothing I would not do for you. There is no one out there who is going to give you something that I can’t give you. I know you never have to go outside of this marriage to get something you’re not getting at home, and neither do I.”

That was true. It was absolutely true and yet, that was what had been nagging on him with Viktor. He knew Hermione would do anything for him. Hell, if he asked, he was pretty sure she would even get into a strap-on and do him up the ass, if that turned out to be something he enjoyed—and he wasn’t ruling it out yet—so what was it that he thought Viktor could give him? If it wasn’t about sex, what was it about?

Was it just the new experience? That was why he thought Hermione was seeing whoever she was seeing, but with him, there was something he thought he would get from Viktor that he had never got before. That thought both excited him and frightened him.

“What about me?” Hermione asked, breaking Ron out of his dilemma.

“What?”

“Are you worried, curious or jealous about my Thursdays?”

“Of course,” he answered. “I’m extremely curious about who you are with, but more curious about how you are with someone you haven’t known since you were eleven, unless you’re with Neville—you’re not with Neville are you?”

Hermione smacked his arm lightly, “Not telling.”

Ron hoped that meant no, but didn’t ask.

“And of course I’m jealous that someone else gets to touch you, and hold you, and hear your opinions on the Right of Elves.”

She smacked him playfully again.

“But I’m not worried. Not because I don’t think that you could find better than me, but because after all we’ve been through and all we’ve taught each other about how to be adults and in love and all of that; I don’t think you’d be quick to give that up and start fresh with someone else. No matter how it is they taught you to do that thing you do with your hips.”

She smiled wickedly, kissed him hard and they didn’t discuss Date Night again.

***

The next Wednesday Ron received an owl from Viktor that contained a letter and a hairbrush.

_R._

_At 7 p.m. Thursday night this will become a Portkey. Bring your broom._

_V._

Ron was giddy all day. Going flying with an international Quidditch player was better than any distraction he could have come up with.

When he finally got on his feet that Thursday night, he found he was in a familiar field.

“Do you remember this place?” Viktor asked from about half a yard away, hovering over the ground on his broom.

“Isn’t this where the Quidditch World Cup was played back in ‘94?” Ron asked, ignoring the memories of the last time he had been in this meadow during the war and what Harry, Hermione and he sometimes, not quite laughingly, called, “The Camping Trip of Doom.”

Viktor nodded. “The first time you saw me, yes?”

“Yes. In person that is. I had, of course, been following your career.”

“Vell, of course.” Viktor said. He seemed to be truly enjoying himself.

They flew around for a while, chasing each other, passing a rock back and forth. Ron hadn’t been on a broom for what seemed like forever and he wondered why it had been so long as the wind blew his hair and he felt light and exhilarated. After an hour or two, they weren’t so much chasing each other as flying around each other slowly, talking.

“So, how do you like coaching?” Ron asked.

“It is a good job. I miss playing myself, but it is fine thing to be teaching all I know and molding a young team.”

“They are young aren’t they?”

“Yes. Oliver is our old timer.”

“But he’s only a few years older than me.” Ron said, outraged.

“And a few years younger than me. Quidditch vill age you, it is true.”

“Can I ask you something?” Ron asked. They were stopped mid-air now, facing each other.

“Sure.”

“With all those girls throwing themselves at you, and all those young, athletic boys worshipping you, what are you doing here with me?”

Viktor tilted his head and studied Ron, getting closer without looking as if he meant to. Ron worried that Viktor would realize his mistake now that it had been pointed out to him.

“Do you really not know?”

“Know what?”

“How much I vant you. Only you.”

Ron’s hand, instantly sweaty, slipped off the broom and he tilted forward, sliding down the handle. Viktor, with a Seeker’s skill, caught him before he lost his broom.

After he was steady again, and before Viktor let go of him, Ron said, “No, I don’t…didn’t... know.”

Viktor chuckled, “Vhat more can I do to show you?” Then he pulled away slightly to cup Ron’s chin with both hands and brought him into a slow, sweet kiss.

Something inside Ron clicked. That thing that was baffling him, on the tip of his mind; that thing that Viktor could give him that Hermione couldn’t, and it wasn’t about sex at all. _Viktor wanted him!_ Hermione loved him, even needed him. But with Viktor who had the entire world to choose from, he _chose_ Ron above all.

Viktor didn’t know him when they were children, hadn’t seen him at his worst or at his best. He hadn’t had decades to wear at Viktor’s defenses, to win him over with his sometimes negligible charm, didn’t have Harry’s limelight beside him to cast its light, or its shadow. He was _just_ him. _Just_ Ron Weasley and that was enough for Viktor Krum.

With some fancy wand work, Ron had both brooms supporting them; so that a 100 feet off the ground they had a broom under each thigh. Within seconds of relief from the need to focus on gravity, Ron had Viktor in a bone-crushing embrace that would have scarred a less fit man. Ron took Viktor’s hair in both fists and plunged his tongue deep into his mouth.

Without either of them directing their destination consciously, they floated in large circles, losing altitude every rotation. By the time that they landed on the ground, they were shirtless and Viktor had large welts along his neck where Ron had sucked the skin fiercely. Ron didn’t even wait for them to land completely before he had Viktor on his back and was straddling him, working to get his trousers and pants off.

Viktor began pumping his hips instinctually as Ron clutched Viktor’s cock, laid down on top of him and began stroking both of them as they rhythmically rocked themselves up and down Ron’s hand slowly, matching their moaning need. Viktor used one of his free hands to cup and squeeze Ron’s arse, while the other wrapped around Ron’s neck and brought him down for a kiss, taking Ron’s tongue and sucking. Crying out in Viktor’s mouth, he came on Viktor’s stomach. A moment later, Viktor’s come joined his and a handful of Ron’s hair was in Viktor’s clenched fist.

Ron collapsed on top of Viktor, running his hands down the man’s arms and taking his hands in his own. Sighing, his eyes began to droop, and then snapped back open as he barked out a laugh.

“Vhat?”

“Wronski Feint,” was all that Ron could get out.

Viktor’s laugh joined Ron’s and echoed through the clearing. “Yes, this is my favorite kind of Quidditch,” Viktor said, arranging himself, so that Ron slid off him and they could wrap themselves around each other.

***

The next two weeks dragged by. Work was so tedious that he spent most days dreaming about either Viktor or Hermione, sometimes both of them; sometimes he even threw Fleur in the mix to keep his imagination vivid. Home was a small bit more interesting, but not in a good way. For the last week, his house had been overrun with Weasley women in full baby shower mode. He had no idea how much work went into having a baby, months before it was even born.

A few nights he went out for beers with Harry, but Harry was even more preoccupied then Ron was and they spent most of the time staring into their glasses. A few times, he had been tempted to stop off at Viktor’s. But that was against the rules: besides, it wasn’t fair to Viktor to just show up whenever he felt like it.

He couldn’t hide his excitement that second Thursday though and he thought Hermione seemed anxious as well. He hoped she was enjoying these Date Nights as much as he was.

That morning he had received a bent, empty can of Muggle soda and a note that said,

_R._

_7 p.m. Bring your appetite._

_V._

Ron laughed to himself, _Like I really go anywhere without my appetite._ But then again, food was the last thing he was hungry for while he waited for the can to take him to where he most wanted to be.

He was back to Viktor’s getaway cabin in the woods. Swirls of smoke rose from the chimney and he could smell foreign food smells before he had even gotten to the little fence that circled his little oasis.

“Velcome,” Viktor said, opening the door before Ron knocked.

“Thank you,” Ron said, handing Viktor the bottle of Firewhisky he had brought. It all seemed so formal and awkward, but the shine in Viktor’s eyes reassured him that he hadn’t imagined the last meeting.

“Everything smells lovely,” Ron said, trying and failing to stop sounding like a cliché.

“Thanks. You know vot they say about food being the va…vell, you know vot they say…” Viktor stumbled out.

_Was he really going to say, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?_ Ron thought and laughed and that seemed to ease the tension.

“Let me take your coat,” Viktor said, going around Ron and easing the traveling cloak off his shoulders. Ron hadn’t noticed how warm it was until that moment. He reached out for Viktor and brought him around for a kiss.

“I missed you these last two weeks,” Ron said.

“Really?” Viktor said.

“Does that surprise you?”

“Vell, I have been vondering how much of your time is devoted to thoughts of me vhen you are avay.”

Ron didn’t know how to answer this, he knew it wasn’t fair to Viktor that there were others that had the legal right to demand more of his time, but Viktor had knew this from the start. Besides, he also didn’t want to admit just how much his time _had been_ devoted to Viktor. “How much do you think of me?” Ron asked instead.

Viktor looked away, “You are crossing my mind from time to time, I suppose.”

Ron chuckled and grabbed him for an embrace, “As it should be, I suppose.”

They had an enjoyable meal, comprised of things Ron didn’t even want to imagine where they had come from. They talked of work, family and the differences in the Wizarding governments of Bulgaria and Britain. It was a surprisingly interesting conversation with only a few innuendos and coy asides. Ron was shocked to discover what little he really knew about Viktor and what Viktor didn’t know about him. Obviously he had known of Viktor’s fame in Quidditch and Viktor knew about Ron’s war record; but other than that, it was all new and interesting.

“You ready for desert?” Viktor asked, pouring the last of the wine into Ron’s goblet.

Ron wiggled his eyebrows, “What you got in mind?”

“I have a few sweet and delectable treats in store for you. But let’s move from the table. It is a bit formal, no?”

“Yeah, but enjoyable as well,” Ron said, getting up from the table and following Viktor into the living room where a spread of sweet things were set out. Ron swallowed and wet his lips slowly with his tongue. He could smell chocolate in the air.

Overcome with desire and fear, Ron finally understood why they had both been awkward with each other every since he arrived. They both knew where the relationship was going, what came next. They both knew there was only so much foreplay before you arrived at “the moment” and it was very exciting, but also terrifying.

They sat on the rug, their knees touching and the table of goodies to their side. Viktor took a strawberry and dipped it into a bowl of melted chocolate. “Do you like chocolate?”

He imagined what could be done with chocolate sauce and swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “Does a centaur shite in the woods?” he said, laughing awkwardly.

Viktor smiled and brought the chocolate smeared fruit to Ron’s waiting mouth. But instead of placing the fruit between Ron’s lips, he traced the soft, pink flesh of Ron’s lips with the warm, dripping sauce instead.

Ron licked his lips hungrily.

Biting into the strawberry and chewing slowly, Viktor whispered, “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” Ron returned huskily, watching Viktor enjoying his strawberry with more gusto then was probably decent. The chocolate was creamy and smooth, the strawberries tart, sweet and juicy, but the most tantalizing part of dessert was watching Viktor enjoy it. Ron had thought _he_ liked chocolate.

He leaned forward and kissed Viktor lightly, letting his tongue savor the taste of the other man.

Viktor looked at him with a wicked smile, “Do you vant me to show you vot I can do vith _my_ mouth?” then his tongue snaked its way into Ron’s mouth. While Viktor sucked Ron’s lips and kissed him deeply, he busied his hands with removing their shirts.

Soon after, Ron found himself on his back, completely naked, Viktor straddling him. Ron licked his lips for the last of the chocolate goodness. Viktor began kissing, sucking and licking his way across Ron’s chest and down to his torso. Ron moaned as Viktor’s tongue, grainy from the chocolate sent sensations throughout his body.

Ron moaned as Viktor spread his legs apart and positioned himself between his thighs. Never taking his eyes off Ron, Viktor placed a finger in the chocolate bowl and with a wicked smile that seemed to be masking his nervous bravado—if his hitched breath were to be believed—placed the finger, delicately around Ron’s arse hole.

Ron bit his lower lip and forced himself not to clinch himself shut as Viktor nudged his finger slowly inside him. The pain was immediate, but so was the almost uncomfortable erection.

Viktor smiled as he brought his head down and brought his tongue to Ron’s chocolate covered hole. As Viktor spread apart Ron’s arse cheeks to work his tongue inside him, Ron moaned throatily, clutched his quivering cock and began stroking.

Having Viktor’s long, salivating tongue thrust inside him was not a wholly awful sensation, Ron took the time to muse. Ron moaned as Viktor’s hook nose nuzzled against his balls, causing Ron to take his free hand and grasp Viktor’s hair painfully. Closing his eyes, Ron was overloaded with sensations all at once, pain, pleasure, wet, hot…too much, he wasn’t going to…and then the pain was unimaginable as Viktor replaced his probing tongue with his slicked, throbbing cock.

The sudden shock of a searing, burning pain, caused Ron’s eyes to spring open with a gasp he hadn’t meant to exalt. For one heartbeat of a second he saw Viktor’s beatific gaze of glory turn to horror.

Viktor had barely more than the head of his cock inside of Ron. “Do you vant me to stop?” Viktor whispered, horrified.

Ron saw the look of fear on Viktor’s face and bit his Gryffindor lip and shook his head, urging Viktor to continue.

“Are you sure,” Viktor asked, sounding scared.

Still biting his lip painfully, Ron nodded. He almost asked Viktor to be gentle, but Viktor didn’t seem to need to be told. He very slowly and very gently inched his way inside Ron, until Ron’s whimpers of pain become gasps of awe. Viktor pulled out at the same torturously slow pace and begun again and this time there was no breath of pain.

“Stroke it,” Viktor ordered, and it was then that Ron noticed he still had his hand around his own rock-hard erection. He knew that Viktor wanted them to come together and that he wasn’t going to last much longer inside Ron’s tight hole.

Squeezing himself tighter to mirror the sensation, Ron matched him stroke for stroke, pumping his hips in pace with Viktor’s; opening himself up wider and deeper for Viktor to fill.

Ron watched as Viktor, eyes closed and in a world of his own, began to reach climax. Viktor’s orgasm started as a low rumble in the bottom of his abdomen and became a growl that was almost animalistic as he clutched Ron’s outer thighs painfully and stopped moving except for a slight twitch in his middle. Then Ron felt Viktor’s hot deposit explode inside him and felt his muscles relax as he lost his ability to balance himself. Ron caught him in his arms a moment after Ron himself came.

Looking in Viktor’s drooped eyes told Ron all he needed to know. Ron hugged him to him and let his eyes drop further, within moments he felt the heavy breathing of sleep against his neck. Ron didn’t mind as it allowed him to sort his feelings and test to make sure his arse wasn’t permanently damaged.

He liked the smell of Viktor, from the sweaty hair in his face, to the essence of him seeping out of his backside. After a few minutes though, as it began to dry, along with the come coating his stomach, he thought the romance of it had worn off and performed a wandless cleansing charm. Viktor dozed through it all.

He also slept through Ron shoving him, forcibly, but kindly off him so that he could breathe properly again. Amazed at Viktor’s ability to sleep so soundly naked next to another bloke, Ron began poking him experimentally. There was a slight twitch, but not even a fluttering of the eyes as Ron pushed on his arm, his chest or his stomach. Smiling to himself, her began blowing lightly on Viktor’s neck. Still no response.

He brought his tongue to Viktor’s Adams Apple where a drop of sweat cooled. The briny salt taste intrigued him and he trailed his tongue along Viktor’s jawline. Finally he noticed goose flesh appear up Viktor’s arms. He also noticed that he himself was sporting a brand new erection.

“Vot’s so funny?” Viktor mumbled.

Ron continued his tongues ascent to Viktor’s ear and nibbled before answering, “How happy I am.”

“You are not angry that I hurt you?” Viktor said anxiously.

“Angry?” Ron asked incredulously and brought his lips to Viktor’s as he took Viktor’s hand and guided it to his stiff member.

“Already?” Viktor asked with a smile once he got Ron’s tongue out of his mouth.

“I want to know what it feels like,” Ron answered.

“It feels like heaven.”

Ron began kissing Viktor’s face: his eyelids, his forehead, his nose. “Will you show me?”

Viktor’s eyes lit up, “I think I could instruct you in the proper—”

Ron kissed him hard and Viktor wordlessly summoned a bottle of oil to them.

“Ever given a massage?” Viktor asked.

Ron smiled, “Never to anyone with muscles bigger than mine, but I think I could give it a try.”

“Not all my muscles are bigger than yours,” Viktor said with a smirk.

Ron looked down at his fully erect cock and smiled, “I don’t know, it felt plenty big to me. Should I get out the measuring tape?”

Viktor rolled his eyes and turned over to expose his backside.

Ron straddled him, sitting lightly on his thighs. Pouring out a generous amount of the fragrant, translucent oil that instantly became warm as he rubbed his hands together, watching the oils drip off his hands and on to Viktor’s back. First flinching at the unexpected heat and then moaning as Ron’s hands touched him, Viktor continued his enthusiastic exclamations and Ron laughed.

“You must have horrified your team’s masseuse.”

“Nah, she liked vhen I moaned.”

“Ha, I bet she did.”

Running his hands the length of Viktor’s back, Ron began kneading Viktor’s shoulders, marveling at the muscle of him, the strength of him. Viktor continued to moan as Ron worked his tight muscles lose moving slowly down his back. Leaning into Viktor to really apply pressure to a tough spot, Ron felt his cock rub against Viktor’s tailbone. Now he was the one to moan as he slid himself down against Viktor, placing his cock in the crack of Viktor’s arse.

Squeezing Viktor’s cheeks together around his cock, Ron began stroking against him.

Viktor reached back and grasped Ron’s wrist. “Ron, fuck me.”

Ron nodded and got up on his knees, pulling Viktor up by his pelvis. Soaking his hand once again with oil, he slathered Viktor’s arse with it. Making sure his finger was well slicked he slid his middle finger in between his arse cheeks and slowly worked it inside Viktor’s waiting hole.

Viktor must have been anticipating the pain. He bit his lip and breathed through it, actually leaning into Ron’s finger, moaning again. Ron rubbed against the walls and moaned as well. “So tight.”

“More,” Viktor said through his teeth.

Ron smiled wickedly and slid another finger inside him, stroking him, massaging him, loosening the tightened muscles in there as well. Viktor whimpered and leaned into him further.

“Fuck me,” Viktor ordered again.

Summoning the oil once again to him, he saturated his cock and worked himself behind Viktor, spreading Viktor’s legs with his knees.

“Please,” Viktor begged.

Taking a deep breath and then holding it, Ron guided himself inside Viktor, relieved that Viktor too whimpered in pain. “Okay?”

Viktor nodded enthusiastically, unable to speak. Ron moved further inside and cried out. “Oh Merlin, so tight,” he gasped through clenched teeth. Ron had never felt this almost painful sensation before.

He pulled out and then back in slowly. Viktor leaned into him and Ron cried out again. Viktor reached out for Ron’s hand and lead him to take his cock and together they began stroking him as he simultaneously pumped deeper and deeper inside Viktor’s arse.

The slow pace Ron set had the dual treat of both allowing him to feel everything intensely and driving Viktor over the edge. He began urging, verbally and with his body to be given it deeper and harder. Soon, Ron obliged and began pumping into him so the sound of Ron’s balls slapping against Viktor’s arse was almost louder than their shared moans, groans and exaltations.

And then there came that feeling of being light headed at the same time that he began tensing up for that briefest of moments before Ron felt the orgasm take over him. He clung tightly to Viktor with his free hand and forced himself to remain conscious through it all as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over him.

With ragged breaths, Viktor slid away from Ron and collapsed on his side, Ron tumbled beside him. “That was…was…” Ron began, but didn’t have the vocabulary to continue.

Viktor smiled at him, kissed him gently and cuddled into him.

“How did you learn all of that?” Ron asked, not sure if he really wanted to know, but needing to fight the urge to fall asleep.

“I read a lot,” Viktor said, completely serious.

“Really?” Ron asked, kissing his chin, “How very Hermione of you.”

He felt Viktor tense beside him and was surprised to see a pained look in his eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t think. It’s just that she…well it is a Hermione thing to do.”

“Do you always think of her?”

“You mean every day in every way or do you mean in the here and now?” Ron asked.

“You know vot I mean. Do you think of her, vhen you are vith me?”

“Occasionally,” he answered, then catching the hurt look again continued. “I’m sorry if that hurts you. Hermione and I don’t lie to each other, ever. It’s a habit I can’t break. So, yes occasionally I think of her. I think about how she would love to be here with us, I wonder if she enjoys her Thursdays as much as I do and I am thankful that I found someone like her who also allowed me to find you.”

“Do you tell her about me?”

“No. Even if she wanted to know, which she doesn’t, I wouldn’t.”

“But you just said you tell her everything. You don’t lie to her.”

Ron thought about how to explain what he wanted to say. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t lie, I just wouldn’t talk about it. This…what we have here…what we are doing…it’s mine…it belongs to…well it’s mine. I’m a different person when I’m with you. I like being that person.”

Viktor smiled and ran his hand down Ron’s side, resting on his hip. “And you like that this other person that you are is only every other veek?”

Ron, being who he was, tried to laugh this off, “Oh, believe me, you wouldn’t want me more than every other week. On a daily basis, I’m a bit of an arsehole. Everyone says so.”

“They do not. You are not.”

Ron groaned, “Maybe not. If I could cut myself in half, then yes, I would love if we saw each other more than once every other week, but I can’t.”

“I know. The rules, right?”

“The rules we both knew getting into this. You know I don’t expect you to be only mine?”

“Of course not! Believe me, I get lots of action!”Viktor said, almost convincingly.

Ron smiled, pretending to believe him. “I’m sure you do.”

“But, vot I don’t do is bring that here. Vhen I am vith you, I’m only vith you.”

Ron nodded. “Point taken. So, if you’d like, that can be our rule. When we are together we have to be different people then we are in the outside world.”

Viktor kissed him and wrapped his arms around him. “Yes, I like that rule.”

***

Ron went home that night with a sore arse and a light heart. There was something almost magical about his new agreement with Viktor. To be another person twice a month, to share dreams that were unique to the two of them and no one else, to have a new set of stories to tell that hadn’t been heard a million times before. Magical.

Hermione wasn’t home when he got back, but he didn’t worry and prepared himself for bed. When he awoke the next morning and she still wasn’t there, he was worried. He checked the house for a note to tell him that she had been there, or had planned ahead to be out all night. There was nothing. He went to the fireplace to Floo-call to Harry and Ginny’s, but stopped before he did. He didn’t want them to know that his wife hadn’t come home, not if they didn’t need to. What he needed to do was find Hermione.

He grabbed his wand, thought of the happiest thought he could muster, and cast his Patronus. “Find Hermione,” he ordered, “Tell her, your husband would like you home, now!”

It dissolved in front of him and he began pacing, counting the seconds. It was ten minutes later, ten long minutes in which Ron imagined all sorts of horrid things. It was also the perfect amount of time for someone to be awoken, shuffle on their clothes and Apparate home. Which is exactly what Hermione looked like when she appeared in front of him with frantic eyes and words half formed spilling from her lips.

He couldn’t hear her though as his nostrils were assailed with the pungent fragrance of stale sex all over her and as he turned away in revulsion she attacked him with images. His mind was flooded with pictures of various body parts being swatted, slapped, and whipped. There were too many of them and Ron held his hands to his head and fought her onslaught.

“Enough!”

There were so many things he wanted to say, to know that he couldn’t figure where to start. Then he looked at her and she didn’t look like anyone he’d ever met and certainly smelled like everyone he’d ever met, all rolled into one putrid odor.

Watching him tentatively and fighting tears with hands held out as if begging for forgiveness or understanding, Hermione stood and waited.

Ron was losing his rage, but wasn’t ready to let go of the anger and didn’t want to hear the excuses or the stories that accompanied those images. He wanted to be sickened.

Pointing his wand to her, he whispered, _“Detergo,”_ and turned away, after the bubbles finished shooting out of his wand to attack his wife.

He walked out of the room, but not fast enough to miss the sound of her crumpling to the floor in heart wrenching sobs.

While busying himself away from her, Ron began pacing again. Letting his emotions and thoughts overflow before he went to her, he needed to have all hurts and rampant feelings sorted before they talked. He knew they would talk, they would talk this to death, as they talked through everything in the past. There was a time when Ron would try his damndest to avoid talking any time there was a fight brewing; he wished for those days again.

He heard the sound of the tub filling above him while he was warming the teakettle. When tea was prepared, he went to her. Knocking on the bathroom door with one hand and holding the teacups on a tray with the other he asked, “May I come in?”

“Yes,” said Hermione, sounding jittery.

He opened the door and almost laughed at the sight of her covering herself with stray bubbles. It seemed a strange time for her to be modest, but then he remembered the flashes of memory she attacked with earlier. Perhaps there were things she really was trying to hide now; cuts she didn’t want t talk about, bruises she couldn’t explain.

Placing the tray on the closed toilet seat, he handed her a cup. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” she said, bracing herself.

“Those things you showed me—”

“I’m sorry, I know that’s against the rule—”

“Fuck the rules. The rules have been broken all to shite now, so fuck them. That’s not what I wanted to say. What I wanted to know…those images…were they a cry for help? Did you show me those because you have gotten yourself into something that you can’t get out of? Do you need rescuing? Or were you just trying to hurt me?”

Tears welled up in her eyes but Ron looked away. He was not going to feel sorry for her; was not going to let uncharacteristic signs of weakness break his resolve, not without the facts.

“Ron, I’m so sorry I showed you that. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, or cry out for help. I just let my unbelievable need to explain come to the front and it just unloaded on you. I didn’t mean it.”

“You accidently showed me that?”

“Yes…no…I…I don’t know what I…why I…” she stopped, for a moment her shame of the loss of words overriding all other shames.

“What did you need to explain?” Ron asked.

“Why I wasn’t here this morning, why I broke the ru—”

“Enough with the fucking rules! It was a stupid rule to start with.”

“Is that why you’re mad, because I broke the rules and you didn’t?”

Ron was on his feet, enraged, “What? I only get one reason? Yeah, I’m mad that I cared more about you and what you would go through if I didn’t come home then you obviously did about me. I’m mad that whatever sick depravity you get hot about is more important than my peace of mind and I’m mad that you get to be the one wrapped up in warm bubbles and sipping tea while I feel…” Her reached for a word to describe how he felt, ”…dirty…”

Hermione’s tears flowed again. But she didn’t say anything this time and Ron didn’t feel like listening anyway. He went back to their bedroom to wait for her to finish her bath.

***  
“This isn’t going to work.”

“You want to stop date night?” Hermione asked, bending over to wrap her wet hair in a towel.

Ron gulped down his panic before she stood back up, towel precariously on top of her head, “No. That’s not what I meant. I just think we need to redefine the rules. I would have been fine with you not being here this morning if I knew you were okay. So, we either need to change the perimeters of date night to include the next morning, or have some sort of way of assuaging fears. I wasn’t upset that you were enjoying yourself—if that’s what you were doing—I was just upset that I was so worried.”

Hermione nodded sheepishly and came to join him on the bed. “I am sorry. Would you believe me if I told you that I just overslept? That I was just too tired to move, to think, and I dozed off?”

Ron took her hand, but still wasn’t ready to look her in the eye. “That’s all I _want_ to believe.”

***

The next twelve and a half days were torturous. Hermione and he ironed out the new rules over the next day and then did not speak of it anymore. They were overly polite to each other every night for dinner and slept in the same bed every night. But they did not make love and they both raced to get to the office first.

That weekend Ron was relieved to discover, was Ginny’s baby shower. Hermione spent the whole weekend with Ginny and Harry spent it with Ron. During the planning stages, Ron had wondered and had been a bit annoyed that this was taking place months before Ginny was even due; it had seemed bad luck to him at the time. Now though, he was relieved for the excuse to get away.

Harry asked about Viktor, but Ron didn’t want to talk about him. Harry asked about Hermione, but Ron really didn’t want to talk about her. So they talked of Quidditch and about Neville becoming a professor and about Luna running off with some nut job naturalist who seemed to be a perfect fit for their wacky friend. Then George and Charlie came by and it turned into a bit of a party; mostly consisting of teasing Harry about his upcoming role of father to their little sister’s baby.

“Who would have thought you would be the first of us popping out the Weasleys?” George laughed.

“Don’t forget Bill, he beat us, twice.” Harry countered.

“Yeah, but in case you haven’t noticed, he’s not here—hence the first of _us,_ ” George said slowly, as if he was talking to a mentally challenged person.

“So, when are you and Angelina going to start popping them out?” Harry asked.

“Any day now,” George answered.

Ron did a Firewhisky spit-take and Charlie high fived his congratulations to George as Harry pat Ron on the back.

“Wow, does mum know?” Charlie asked.

“I’m sure they’ll all know by the end of the night,” George answered, beaming.

They all raised their glass for a toast before George asked the inevitable, “So Ron, when are you and Hermione going to start populating the world with Weasleys?”

Ron blanched, the last thing he wanted to think about right now was bringing a child into the world. He deflected, “What about you Charlie? When are you going to settle down and start a family?”

Charlie refilled his glass, “Ah well. Yeah, my kind don’t really breed well in captivity.”

He took a shot and waited for the statement to sink in. For once, Harry and Ron got the meaning before George. While their mouths feel open, George said, “Don’t you think you’re taking that dragon metaphor a little too f…Oh!”

“You’re gay?” Harry asked.

Charlie raised his glass as a salute, “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner.”

“But, how can you be gay?” Ron asked, “You’re so…”

“So what?” Charlie asked.

“So…cool.”

Barking out a laugh, Charlie said, “You’d be surprised how many cool guys like other cool guys.”

Ron swallowed hard and forced himself not to look at Harry who he could feel had his eyes on him.

“Really, you didn’t even suspect?” Charlie asked. “Never brought a girl home, never had a girlfriend. Besides, a family with seven kids is bound to have at least one, right?”

Ron again choked on his drink.

“Yeah, but I always thought it would be Percy,” said George with a laugh.

***

After almost two weeks of awkward silences and absolutely no touching between Hermione and himself, he was more than ready to become someone else for a night. This time he was the one who sent the owl with a Portkey.

_V._

_Hold on tight. At seven this will bring you to me. Bring your “appetite.”_

_R._

Before Viktor was even over the doorway of the room Ron had let at a Irish Inn, Ron was on him, pulling off Viktor’s coat while shoving his tongue down his throat.

“Nice to meet you,” Viktor said, after he was released long enough for Ron to shut the door and pull them to the bed.

“Aw, shuddup,” Ron answered, pushing Viktor onto the tall four-poster.

“Vot? No talking? No getting to kn—” Ron reached his hand into Viktor’s pants and grasped his cock, “Oh.”

“We have all night to talk,” Ron began, removing Viktor’s clothes and stroking him. “We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other.”

“Ve vill not be doing this all night, for the rest of our lives?”

“That is entirely up to you,” Ron answered, straddling Viktor and taking his own cock in his other hand.

Viktor reached up, wrapped his fingers through Ron’s hair, and brought him down to him. Tasting his lips with his tongue, sucking on Ron’s lower lip, he began to rock his hips in rhythm to Ron’s ministrations.

“Talking…is…overrated,” Viktor got out through heavy breathing and deep kisses.

Ron smiled wickedly, stood up, and pulled Viktor to the edge of the bed. “You sure? We could talk about the political climate.” Viktor shook his head vigorously. “I could tell you about my day, and we could debate—”

“Are you going to fuck me or vot?”

Ron spread Viktor’s legs and Viktor reached over his head and clutched the pillows in his fists. Summoning lube, Ron slathered his hand and then cock.

Viktor moaned watching. Then hitched his breathe as Ron eased a finger into him. Viktor bit his lower lip and whimpered as Ron rotated his finger in circular swipes, stretching him. “More.”

New Ron was more than glad to follow directions and eased another finger inside Viktor, scissoring them to prepare him. Viktor’s moans turned to whimpers and he began to once again beg. “Please, fuck me now.”

Ron replaced his fingers with his cock slowly. The tight warmth overwhelmed him again and he almost buckled into the sensation. Regaining the strength in his legs just in time, Ron eased himself in further, slowly.

Throwing his head back and closing his eyes to concentrate completely to that place and time, Ron lost himself in the pleasurable sensation. The coming and going, the in and out, was slow, painful and something he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Then, just as quickly, it was over and he was lying sweaty and spent next to Viktor who held him to his own warmed chest.

Sighing contently, Ron snuggled into Viktor and let his heavy lids slowly shut. There wasn’t time to dream however before Viktor was waking him gently with soft kisses along his brow.

“You get to sleep the other thirteen in a half days, for my small time, you need to be awake.”

Ron yawned, “How can we enjoy the sensation of waking beside each other if you don’t let me sleep?”

“Ve get to vake next to each other?”

“Shh,” Ron whispered, putting his finger to Viktor’s lips. “Just for a little bit.”

Ron’s eyes began to droop again as Viktor propped himself up to watch. When Ron opened his eyes again, it was his turn to watch a sleeping Viktor, the sky outside the window was turning from the violet of deepest night to the dark grey of earliest dawn. He smiled and stretched, he still had time.

Trying not to wake his partner, Ron slinked out of bed and made his way to the bathroom to start a shower. The mirror was just beginning to fog up when he heard a growl from the other room.

“Want to come get clean with me?” Ron asked, leaning his head into the other room and flashing a disarming smile.

“I’d rather get dirty,” Viktor said with his own smile, but he rose and joined Ron in the bathroom.

With the water warm on Ron’s neck and Viktor’s arms tightly around him, it took no time for his cock to wake up once again. Pinning Viktor to the cold tiles of the shower stall he leaned into him, touching his erection into Viktor’s.

With one hand Viktor brought Ron’s face to his and kissed his wet lips hungrily; with the other he reached down between them and grasped both of their cocks and began stroking them both. Ron reached for the soap and began working it into a lather between his hands.

Rubbing Viktor’s arms chest and back with his bubbled hands, Ron moaned against him, as Viktor continued to stroke them both. And when they came together a few moments later, Ron cleaned that up as well.

Kissing Viktor gently, he stepped out of the bath.

He was standing at the window, lower half wrapped in a towel when Viktor came to join him, wrapping his arms around him from the back.

“The sun is up,” Ron mused.

“I can’t remember a time that I saw you vhen the sun vas still shining,” Viktor said, “How is it you are still here?”

Ron shrugged, “I wanted to watch you sleep and I wanted to watch when you woke up. Is that okay?”

Sighing, Viktor said, “It vas very nice, but…”

“Yes?”

“Vell, it’s just…it makes me vant thing you cannot give me.”

Ron didn’t turn around didn’t say anything for a long time. He was busy working in his head yet another rule he had to amend; another rule he had to live with. “I understand.”

***


	3. Chapter 3: Made to be Broken

For the next couple of months, life finally worked itself out and started to make sense again. He and Hermione had survived the worst of it. Neither one of them were willing to give up date night so they compromised. He and Viktor were passed the have-to-constantly-be-fucking stage of their relationship and sometimes on date nights, they actually went out. Sometimes.

One of those nights, they found themselves at the last place the old Ron would have ever imagined being. A gay dance club. A wizard gay dance club. Ron had never even known they existed, and yet, in the cold climes of Romania’s Carpathian Mountains was a wizard village very much like Hogsmeade, only trendier.

“You know I don’t dance,” Ron said.

“I know you _used_ to not dance, but you are new and improved, no?”

“New, yes, that has been established, improved? Not so sure.”

Viktor slinked his finger through the belt loop of Ron’s jeans and tugged him toward him, “I am sure.”

They stood outside an abhorrently gaudy facsimile of a Muggle nightclub with fairy lights almost as bright and flashy as neon. The sign being illuminated proclaimed Wizard Wands of the World so that the three W’s stood out.

“If I were George I would look into litigation for that. A little bit too close to Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes if you ask me,” Ron complained.

“Yes, because your brother is the first person to come up with using W.W.W.”

“It’s not too late to go somewhere else,” Ron tried once again.

“Come on, just give it a try, if it’s no fun or too, you know, gay, ve can go somevhere else.”

“Promise?”

Viktor put out his hand to shake on it.

They went straight to the bar. Ron had to concede that it wasn’t too gay. It just looked like a bunch of everyday blokes dancing, no funny costumes or obscene nakedness at all. It wasn’t until his third Firewhisky that Ron noticed everyone looking at them and pointing. He, of course chalked his not noticing to have been best friends with Harry for so long. Being next to someone famous was just something he had gotten used to.

“You want to dance?” Viktor asked.

He really didn’t, but after scanning the room for reporters and photographers and finding neither, he decided dancing would be a good distraction.

They were out there for a few songs when Ron felt hands cup over his eyes, blinding him. “Guess who?” said a voice that was heart-stoppingly familiar.

“Fuck!” Ron exclaimed.

“No thanks, I don’t do that sort of thing with blood relatives.” The hands were removed and Ron turned around to face Charlie and…

“Oliver, what are you doing here?”

Putting his arm around Charlie and smiling, Oliver said, “More importantly, what are you doing here?”

“Yeah, with Viktor? Viktor, is that really you?” Charlie asked.

Ron spent a full minute looking from Viktor to Charlie to Oliver and back around again before he said with fake bravado, “Yeah, I’m here with Viktor.”

Oliver shrugged, “Cool, want something to drink?” He didn’t get an answer from Charlie who looked unable to talk, or from Ron, who looked unable to look away from his brother’s shocked expression. He tried again.

“Viktor, you want to go to the bar and get a drink? These two look like they’re going to need a family reunion.”

Viktor and Oliver walked awkwardly away.

“Let’s go outside, I think there’s a story here somewhere,” Charlie said calmly.

“Alright,” Ron said, working out in his mind where to start.

The air outside had gotten that chill one only feels in a mountain range, pure and bone deep. “Okay, what’s going on?” Charlie asked, zipping up his jacket and bending his head to block the wind as he lit a cigarette.

“You smoke?” Ron asked.

“You fuck Viktor?” Charlie countered.

Swallowing hard, Ron nodded.

“How did this happen? What about your wife? What about…?”

“Relax. I’ll tell you the whole thing; only…give me one of those.”

“So, now you’re smoking too?”

Ron laughed, “What can I say? I want to be just like you.”

“Fuck off.”

The story came out slowly and Charlie listened without asking any questions, but Ron could see the unspoken ones were piling up inside his brother, waiting for an opportunity. Finally, he brought him fully up to speed on the last six months of date night.

“Are you both mental?” was Charlie’s first question.

“Thanks, your support just warms my heart,” Ron retorted.

“Seriously though, this is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. For two nights a month you are having a relationship with a guy and your wife is probably into bondage. And you think that’s a good idea?”

“It was Hermione’s idea,” Ron said lamely.

“Of course it was, and she never has bad ideas does she?”

Ron thought about it. _Had Hermione ever had a bad idea?_ He decided to focus on something else. “What do you mean? Of course it was. You think she suggested it because she wasn’t getting satisfied at home?”

“I don’t know; you let her beat you up? Do you beat her up?”

“No, of course not.”

“So, maybe yeah, she gets what she wants from some other freaky-deaky someone and you get what you want from Viktor, is that it?”

“And that repulses you?”

“Me? I like Viktor, he’s a friend. I can see the attraction, really I can, but what does he get out of this?”

“Thanks. I can’t believe we are related.”

“No, I didn’t mean it that way,” Charlie explained. “It’s just that you’re with him two nights a month and with Hermione the rest of the time. Who does he have that evens out who you have?”

“I don’t know,” Ron whispered. “But, I’m not forcing him to devote himself to be alone, what kind of arsehole do you take me for? He knew the limits I had before he chose to get involved with me. He’s free to see other people, of course he is. We’re just having fun. I didn’t ever think it would be more than that.”

“And is it more than that?”

Ron couldn’t answer, couldn’t even admit to himself, let alone a member of his family who only an hour ago, knew very little about his life. Now he knew way more than Ron would ever have liked.

Charlie watched him for a minute, seemingly struggling with wanting to reprimand Ron more. He must have decided to let him off the hook, momentarily. “Let’s get back inside before Oliver and Viktor run off together.”

“So, you and Oliver? How long you two been together?”

“Oh, forever, give or take a month. Seriously, we got together when he came to the team, what’s that? Two years ago? Wow, who would’ve thought?”

“Certainly not I,” Ron answered as they walked back into the loud nightclub.

“Guess we shouldn’t have worried,” Charlie said with a laugh. Viktor and Oliver were at the bar, circled by a large crowd of men and although Ron and Charlie were too far to hear exactly what was being discussed, they got from Oliver’s gleeful pantomime, that it was probably a play-by-play of their last game.

Charlie slithered his way to be beside Oliver, who immediately stopped his oratory and embraced him. Ron watched them and saw the beatific look on his brother’s face that he had never seen before. The crowd oh’d and ah’d and began to break up as Charlie and Oliver kissed. Viktor looked at him and smiled but didn’t copy the other couple’s public display. Ron was grateful, even if what he wanted more than anything after the talk with Charlie was to hold on to Viktor and forget everything else.

“Did you know about this?” Ron asked as he made his way to Viktor.

“No. I knew that Charlie is a huge fan of the team. I guess that is explaining a lot. I did not know that they vere gay. Charlie always seemed too…”

“Cool? Yeah, well according to him, a lot of cool guys like other cool guys.”

Viktor eyes twinkled, “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“I know, right? Ludicrous.”

Viktor dragged Ron back out to the dance floor where Charlie and Oliver soon joined them. They danced together for a few songs before Ron, faking a flaring war wound, went to sit down with a drink.

He really did hate to dance. But, he did enjoy watching. Charlie and Oliver, to get Viktor’s mind off his abandonment, circled him and began to flirt shamelessly with him. After a few more songs of watching that, Ron’s injuries miraculously healed themselves and he made his way back to the dance floor.

When the bar kicked them out, Charlie invited them back to their place for one more for the road.

“Your place?” Ron asked. “You two are living together?”

“Isn’t that what couples do where you’re from?” Oliver asked with a laugh.

“That’s what couples do, but that’s not what Weasleys do without a ring.”

“You mean like this one?” Oliver asked, holding up his hand and showing off his simple bronze band.

Ron stared at them both with a dropped jaw. He knew Charlie was the most distant of all of his relatives, but he had no idea just how much none of them knew about him. He wondered if these were things Charlie didn’t want them to know or things he didn’t want to tell them.

“Close your mouth you dope, you guys coming or not?” Charlie asked.

“Next time?” Viktor asked.

Oliver smiled, “Yes, definitely next time.”

They said their goodbyes and then each couple walked in an opposite direction. Charlie and Oliver’s loud popped Disapparation sounding before Ron and Viktor even turned the corner. Ron hadn’t noticed how late it was getting. He was just about to say his farewells too, when Viktor took his arm and half walked, half dragged him into an alleyway and had Ron up against the wall in an instant.

Viktor’s hands around his neck, thumbs caressing his cheeks he brought Ron’s mouth to his for a crushing kiss. Viktor’s tongue explored Ron’s mouth hungrily as he pressed up hard against him.

“I have vanted to do this all night,” Viktor said finally breaking away and breathing deeply.

“Was it the being out in public or the flirting with all those boys that turned you on so?” Ron asked, smiling to show he wasn’t as jealous as that sounded.

“Your brother is so hot!” Viktor blurted out.

Ron laughed as he kissed lightly against Viktor’s jawline, “That isn’t as much of a turn on as you would think.”

Viktor joined him in laughing, “Yeah, that didn’t sound right in my head either, sorry.”

They kissed again, this time less hungry and more satisfied. “Do you have to go now?” Viktor asked between kisses.

Ron looked at his watch. “Nah, it’s still early,” he answered, finding his second wind.

***

The next time the foursome were scheduled to hang out again, both Ron and Charlie had to cancel, as their baby sister decided that Thursday was the perfect night to go into labor. Damn inconvenient of her, Ron thought to himself with a laugh as he Apparated with Hermione to Ginny and Harry’s. The whole family was already there and it was chaos.

Ron found Harry hiding in the back yard on a tire swing they had put up about a week after they learned that Ginny was having a baby.

“Hey, feel different yet?” Ron asked.

“What? Um, no. Still feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. Not fatherly at all.”

“Well, according to my dad, that is exactly how you’re supposed to feel, and it never goes away,” he said as he unconsciously pushed the tire, spinning Harry. “So, why are you out here?”

“Just needed some fresh air, you?”

“Had to get away from mom. The minute we walked in it was, ‘When are you two going to have one?’”

“Well, it is your turn.”

“Ugh, can’t a guy breathe without having fatherhood thrust upon him?”

“Not in this family apparently. You’re telling me you and Hermione aren’t going to want children?”

Ron shrugged, “Eventually of course. She just got her promotion and she’s not ready to give that up.”

Harry watched him, as if biting his tongue, “She doesn’t have to give up her career to be a mother.”

“Of course I know that,” Ron retorted and then looked to change the subject. “So, you still sticking with naming your child after you?”

“I was named after my father, it’s tradition.”

“Yeah, but does the world really need another Harry Potter?”

“Fuck off.”

“Just something to think about.”

“Well, what would you suggest?”

Ron thought about it, glad they had moved off the subject of his own inevitable fatherhood. “Well, I’d stick with James you know, for tradition sake but the other? It should be someone you admire, someone you inspire to be someday, some—”

“I’m not naming my child after you.”

“Why not?”

They both laughed before they were called back into the house.

Hours later James Sirius Potter was introduced to the world. After they checked him, cleaned, fed and diapered him, they passed him around so that everyone could greet him properly. Ron took him from his father who was sitting next to him. He knew from everyone else that he was supposed to be the perfect mix of Harry and Ginny, but Ron couldn’t see it.

He handed the baby off to Hermione and watched as her face changed into something unrecognizable as she gazed on the tiny bundle on her lap. Ron couldn’t describe what that look meant, with those glazed over eyes and that odd smile, but he’d never seen anything like it.

“Looks like a flaw in the plan,” Charlie said casually to no one. Ron glared at him, kissed Hermione on the cheek, got up and walked back outside. He was the one who needed the fresh air now.

He was expecting Charlie to follow him and give him the “Are you mental” speech again. Damn Charlie for voicing his own suspicions to what exactly Hermione’s look meant. He needed a cigarette, but then he remembered that he didn’t smoke. Damn Charlie again!

But Charlie didn’t come out, didn’t give him the speech; not that night, and not the next time he saw him two weeks later when they meet in Romania again with Viktor and Oliver.

***

“You sure you want to go? We could stay here and…um…you know?” Ron asked as he watched Viktor put his shirt back on.

“Ve just did um you know…now ve got to go meet your brother and his spouse, my Keeper.”

“You sure they would miss us if we didn’t show?” Ron asked, begrudgingly getting up and getting dressed.

“Are you kidding? That’s all Oliver has been talking about for the last month. I think he likes having another Veasley around.”

“Yeah, almost as much as you do.”

“I said I vas sorry about that comment.”

“Yeah, but you know I’m going to be taking the mickey out of you for a while for it, right? At least we know you have a type.”

Viktor came to him and kissed him, as if that would shut Ron up. It didn’t, “Yes, definitely a type. Tall, handsome redheads with bulging—”

“Egos,” Viktor finished. “How do you know about your brother’s bulge? Vot kind of family do you come from?”

“Bulging muscles! I was going to say bulging muscles…gross! I don’t know anything about that bulge.”

Viktor laughed at Ron’s look of disgust. “It does make you vonder though.”

“What do you wonder about?”

“Vell, you all share so many features, a vonder…”

“You want to see my brother’s bulge, don’t you?” Ron asked, looking up from tying his laces.

“No, of course not!” Viktor said a bit too emphatically for Ron’s liking. “I vas just making an observation.”

Ron was just having fun now. “And your observation is that you’d like to observe Charlie’s package. No, I get it. Very interesting discussion. Too bad we have to go now, but if you’re lucky…who knows.”

“Shut up.”

Ron kissed him, took his hand and they Disapparated.

“Please don’t be teasing me in front of those two,” Viktor said before Ron knocked on his brother’s door, “Because, no matter vot else happens in there, Oliver is on my team and I am his coach. I have to retain a modicum of respect vith him.”

“Okay, I’ll be nice.”

Charlie opened the door.

“Hey Charlie, how’s it hanging?” Ron asked.

Viktor slugged him; Charlie looked confused.

Dinner that night lasted for hours. They talked of Hogwarts until Viktor looked bored; they talked about family until Viktor and Oliver looked bored; they talked about Romania and Bulgaria until Ron looked bored and then they talked about Quidditch until the wee hours. That is until they started laughing about the Cannons chances at the next game. Then Ron realized the time was getting late and he should be going home.

Viktor walked him to the door after Ron had said his goodbyes. “Vould you like me to go vith you?”

“No, you stay here, have fun. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

They walked outside before Viktor reached over for a kiss.

Ron walked away and turned back before Disapparating to see Viktor go back into Charlie and Oliver’s. It felt strange, this feeling he had of missing out on something beginning to happen, and yet, he knew he had no right to get in the way if anything were to happen in that house without him. Those were the margins of his pact.

***

A few months after James was born, Ron was surprised to come home from work on a Friday night to find him at their house. Just him and Hermione.

“Where are Harry and Ginny?” Ron asked.

“They needed a night out. They asked me to watch James for a few hours. That’s okay, right?”

“Of course. Poor Ginny and Harry. Could you imagine how this little guy has changed their whole entire world?” he asked, taking James from Hermione and kissing him and dancing him around the room.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione with that look again. They had never talked about that look and what it meant, but Ron knew instantly that yes, she could totally imagine how a baby could change her entire life. And if he were to be completely honest with himself, he could too. But he wasn’t ready, was he? Was she? When is someone ready? How do they know?

“Ron, give me back James, you look like you’re going to be sick.”

Laughing it off, he snapped out of his silent meltdown, “Nah, I’m fine, I just think this little one dropped a load.

She rose, took James, kissed Ron and walked out of the room.

Later that night they curled up on the couch with the baby; Ron reading from Beedle the Bard and Hermione falling asleep before James did. There was a peaceful sense of contentment lying there so close to something that could very easily be all his. While the other two sleep on, Ron thought of the night before and of Viktor. He very rarely thought of him while with Hermione—and vice versa—but he thought about him then and tried to picture him with this reality and it didn’t work.

How could he be a father and still love passionately Viktor Krum? But how could he just stop loving him? He closed his eyes and tried to think of other things. The first time he admitted to himself that he actually loved the other man, and it was like this, with thoughts of letting him go? The unfairness of it was assaulting his resting mind. Somewhere in the back of it, though, he cursed Charlie. How dare he be so wise in these matters? Maybe he’d know what to do now.

After Harry came and picked up James, Ron and Hermione made their way to their bedroom. While Hermione busied herself in the bathroom Ron called out, “You want one, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. What about you?”

“Yes, eventually, of course I want one. But are you willing to make the sacrifices?”

“You mean work? This is the 21st century dear, even the Wizarding world has advanced in childcare and allowing a woman to be both mother and professional. Plus I’d have you too, partner in it, right?”

“Of course,” Ron said, “I think there is nothing you couldn’t do if you wanted it. I think we’d make excellent parents. It’s just…well there are things that _would_ change…”

Hermione studied him for a minute then said, “Oh, that. Would you miss it that much?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Ron deflected.

She thought for a moment more and then shrugged. “Really? It was fun. But if you’re asking me if I would rather be having fun with a bunch of random partners every other Thursday or creating a new life and a new family. Well, do you really have to ask?”

“Bunch of random partners?” he asked, and not for the reason she probably thought.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to give you that information.”

Ron shook his head, “No, it’s fine.” That wasn’t his problem. The thing that washed over him was indescribable. He had been doing it wrong. This whole time she had been doing what Hermione did best, learning new tricks and having new adventures. While he had went and fallen in love with someone else. He was fucked. He was fucked and Viktor was fucked and he didn’t know how to fix it for either of them.

Fucking Charlie.

***  
“What’s up bro?” Charlie asked when Ron knocked on his door unexpectedly.

“Remember that flaw in the plan you were teasing about?”

“I was only kidding. Why?”

“It’s not a joke anymore.”

“Oh.” Charlie held open the door and Ron came into his kitchen, glad to see that they were alone. “So, is Hermione?”

“Not yet, but soon.”

Ron sat down and told him about the conversation that Hermione and he had had the week before and about how Hermione’s idea of Date Night was so drastically different then his.

“And again, I have to ask, how did you think this arrangement was a good idea?”

“I know. You’re right. Does that make you feel good?” Ron spat.

“A little.” But then he held up his hands, “Sorry, that wasn’t helping.”

“Not really. But I know you’re right. I just don’t know what to do about it. I never expected …never thought…”

“That you would fall in love?”

“That obvious?”

“A little. And so is the way Viktor feels about you.”

“That is the hardest part about this whole thing. I don’t know what to do. I mean…I really do love him…but…I was never going to leave my wife…never going to have a life with him… never going to be…”

“Gay?”

“No offense.”

“None taken, besides, you’re not cool enough for us.”

“Fuck off.”

They smiled at each other. Then Charlie said, “Why don’t you both come around next Thursday, we’ll show you a good time and give Viktor distractions.”

Ron laughed, “Sure you will. But, I think I want to have some alone time with Viktor. Before it’s all gone. Maybe next time?”

“Sure. It might not seem like it, with me laughing at your idiocies, but I really am here for you.”

“Yeah, thanks, that means a lot.”

***

The next Thursday Ron was the first to leave for his Date Night. Hermione kissed him sweetly as he left and told him to have fun.

He meet Viktor at the Irish Inn again. They had a nice dinner at the restaurant in the pub and after a few drinks and a few almost-brawls with drunks; they came back to the room.

“Vhy is it that the vorld is full of areseholes but you and I?” Viktor asked once they had closed the door to their room.

“That is a mystery for the ages.” Ron answered, shrugging off his coat.

“Are you okay?” Viktor asked, studying him.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“You just seem, I don’t know vhat…preoccupied. You can talk about it.”

“No, really, I can’t.”

“Oh, yeah…the rules.”

Ron laughed derisively. His whole life was rules.

“Viktor, can I ask you something?” he waited for Viktor’s head nod. “Where do you see this relationship going?”

“Is this about me cracking about the rules?” Viktor asked.

“No, I just wondered what you were getting from this relationship, you know, beside the obvious.”

“The obvious is not a good enough reason?”

“Is it that?”

“No. Do you vant me to say the vords?”

Ron really didn’t think he could hear them, but he needed to know. He nodded.

“I love you Ron Veasley.”

_Yep, I’m fucked,_ Ron thought, but instead said, “I love you too Viktor Krum.”

That night as he laid in Viktor’s arms and wished for the right to fall asleep there, he fought off thoughts of Hermione. He rose too early to prepare for home. He had to test a theory he had developed throughout the night.

When he got home, she was still there and by the smell of burnt cookies in the kitchen, he knew she hadn’t left. He found her in bed, propped up, reading a book.

“You didn’t go out tonight, did you?” Ron asked.

“No, didn’t feel like it,” she said, putting the book away.

“Are you pregnant?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure, but it didn’t seem right going out without knowing.”

“When will we know?”

“I’m going to St. Mungo’s for a checkup next week.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Hermione’s eyes glistened and she just nodded.

Ron took a deep breath, “I have to tell you something. It’s against the rules, but I don’t care. I’m only telling you because I think you deserve to know and not telling you seems wrong.”

Hermione seemed to brace herself and then nodded again. Ron continued, “While you were having random sex with random people, I was with only one person, one man.”

If Hermione was surprised by this information, she hid it well.

He went on. “It started out as curiosity, became an attraction and over the course of the year has developed into a love I can’t explain.”

Hermione took a deep intake of breath at the word “love.” She still didn’t say anything.

“I’m not telling you this to hurt you. I just…well, I know what you are giving up to stay with me and to be the mother to my children; I just thought you should know too. I stay with you willingly, I will give up this twice a month happiness for the promise of what we are and what we will become. I will fix my mistake, my breaking of the rules.”

Now Hermione’s glistening eyes brimmed over and tears began to flow as she rose from the bed and came to him, hugging him to her tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t mean for this theory to turn out like this, to hurt so much. I would understand if you hated me for what you feel you must do.”

She seemed to be babbling, but Ron let her. His mind was made up, but it was nice to know he was allowed options.

 

***

“Are you sure about this?” Charlie asked.

Ron nodded slowly, but said, “No. But what alternative would you suggest?”

To Charlie’s credit, he really seemed to think about it before shrugging, “Sorry, I’ve got nothing. And Viktor, Viktor is okay with this?”

“He’s not thrilled about it. Like me, he wishes there was another way, but we…well we can’t live in a world where knowing and not having are daily around us. I can’t be a…a good person like that,” Ron’s voice cracked, “And I want to be a good person, a good father.”

Charlie took his brother in his arms, “You are a good person. A good person in a shitty situation. Everything will be okay.”

Embracing him back, Ron allowed himself to believe that what he was saying was true, just for a while. Then he pulled away, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small bottle filled with a misty liquid and handed it to his brother.

“What’s this?”

“My memories. I need you to hold these for me. When I am old and after I’ve had a good life, been a good husband and father for a very long time, these will be mine. Can you do that?”

Charlie nodded, pocketing the bottle.

“I’ll see you later tonight,” Ron said, standing up, not wanting to say anything anymore and really not wanting to be in the same room with the memories of one of the best years of his life.

***

“When will you be back?” Hermione asked, trying to sound strong.

Ron came over to her chair and bent to kiss her on the forehead, “I won’t be long.”

She grabbed his bicep as he went to stand back up and pulled him down. He got on his knees before her and she wrapped her arms around him tightly. “I love you,” she whispered as if confessing a painful sin.

He pulled back to look into her eyes and saw her fear, “I know and I love you. You know that, right?”

She nodded. He kissed her again, then bent and kissed her still-flat stomach. “And I love you.”

***

He stood outside Viktor’s cabin in the Romanian woods—the isolation and picket fence immeasurable comforts—and took it in one more time. The sun had not yet set, but it was making its way to the western horizon. The golden sky meeting the pink dazzled his vigilant eyes. As he continued to drink in his surroundings, he saw beyond a windows dusty glass that he wasn’t the only one imbibing.

“I vas beginning to think you would never knock,” Viktor said, opening the door.

Ron was about to say, ‘Just wanted to commit this place and time to memory’ when he realized the futility and waste of their last precious moments together.

Smiling shyly instead, Ron reached out to Viktor and hastily bridged the gap between them. They wrapped themselves tightly as Viktor slowly danced them into the house. They continued their slow shuffled dance long after they were inside. There was no hunger, no need, just contentment and a desire never to stop dancing.

Once again, Ron felt the insatiable longing to commit the feel of this man to memory, however short lived it would be.

“Seems odd doesn’t it?” Viktor asked, breaking through Ron’s thoughts.

“What?”

“This need I have to make one last memory of you, of us, of this.”

Ron laughed, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

They kissed.

“I never thought it vould end like this.”

“I never really thought it would end. That’s how dumb I am.”

“You’re not dumb, just an optimist.”

They kissed again, this time really exploring the feeling of each other through their lips and tongue, hands and fingers.

Pulling away, Ron gasped. “I just want to taste you all over.”

Viktor smiled and began shuffling them slowly to the bed. “You are always hungry aren’t you?”

Ron arched his brows and licked his lips; Viktor whimpered. “Those lips.”

They had reached the end of the bed. Ron ran the tip of his tongue from the top button of Viktor’s polo shirt to his ear, flicking the meaty lobe with his tongue before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently.

Viktor moaned as he began working the buttons on Ron’s shirt.

In the year they had been together, they had made love many different ways in many unusual places, exploring each other’s bodies in diverse positions, garnering sated approval and vociferous exaltations. This time they slowed down and savored every moment so that each meant more than the one before.

Ron tasted every piece of Viktor, tattooing himself into his lover’s skin with his lips and tongue as Viktor explored Ron with his hands, caressing and holding him, leaving the imprints of himself on Ron’s flesh with both feather-light strokes and kneading fingers. By the time that they got to the actual act of love, they were so harmonious in spirit and soul, there was almost a melody in the air around them; a symphony of fervor as one and then the other reached the crescendo of sweet, sad song.

Ron snuggled into his crushed lover, knowing from experience that Viktor lost consciousness for the briefest of moments after release. He watched him, humming softly against Viktor’s cheek.

He didn’t want him to wake up. Waking up would signify the end and as long as Viktor slumbered, Ron could hold on to the illusion that it would never be over; that they would never have to take that next step. Wanting to lay a soft finger and trace the powerful brows and majestic hooknose, Ron resisted, even slowing his breathing to lull Viktor deeper into sleep, wondering what it was he dreamt about in those moments.

What seemed an instant later, but in actuality, if the mist of dawn were to be believed, was much longer, Viktor’s eyes fluttered open and Ron’s breath caught in his chest painfully.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Viktor asked; sleep still in his raspy voice.

It took Ron a full minute to nod his head, but in the end, there was nothing else to do. Rising to their feet before either one lost their nerve or tried to talk the other out of what came next, they got dressed, never taking their eyes off each other. With a few flicks of their wands, they went about cleaning and erasing any signs of Ron’s presence in the house; it didn’t take as long as Ron would have liked.

They took each other’s hands and faced each other. Ron thought, this must be why it’s best not to know you’re going to die; the dragging it out, the fight for just one more moment was torturous, and yet he couldn’t escape it. Viktor walked him out the door and into the yard. Without a word, because there were no more to say except “don’t go” and “I love you” and it was too painful. So, they had one more hug, one more kiss that was wet with shared tears, then one last look as Ron let go of him, turned and with a thunderous pop, Disapparated.

Either losing his footing or too weak to stand, Ron fell to the ground outside Charlie’s house and saw him and Oliver standing on the porch before he heard another pop and Oliver was gone. Ron knew that he was now at Viktor’s preparing to perform the same spell on Viktor that Charlie was raising his wand to perform on Ron.

Before he could raise a hand to stop it, before he could beg for it not to happen, that he had changed his mind, that he couldn’t let Viktor go, Charlie had shouted out, _“Oblivate!”_

***

Ron woke up with a fuzzy head and this feeling that there was a piece of him missing. Memories of painfully losing bits of flesh, he marked his body for stabs of pain and realized that the pain was coming from inside; that piece that couldn’t be seen. His head couldn’t wrap around where it was and how it had been lost.

He opened his eyes and sighed; he was in his own room. Hermione was hovering over him worry lines along her forehead and questions in her eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asked in a whisper.

“I think so. Was I sick?” he asked, feeling that days had passed since he’d last been conscious.

“You’re fine. Everything is fine now.”

Ron studied her, but didn’t ask the questions that comment elicited. It was probably best that he didn’t know.

***

For the next couple of weeks the sensation that he was recovering from a terrible sickness lingered, not helped by the fact that Hermione and Harry seemed to be studying him for symptoms of some sort. The pain was there and the fuzz of his mind lingered, but he found that each day that he functioned as if nothing was wrong, helped to ease his mind.

For the next couple of months, preparing for their child helped get his mind off what it could no longer remember. When it was Hermione’s turn to have her baby shower and once again the men met for their own party—this time almost all of them fathers already—Ron wasn’t surprised to see Charlie show up with Oliver. They seemed to be a great couple and Oliver seemed to fit right in. Ron hadn’t really known Oliver that well, not being on the Quidditch team when he was captain, but the rest of the Weasley men knew him. If nothing else, Ron thought, having Oliver at family gatherings would be a boost for the annual Weasley Quidditch matches.

Six months after that though, when Charlie showed up to the match with Oliver and Viktor, there were many more raised eyebrows from the entire family. Ron couldn’t explain the way his heart beat faster when Viktor came up to he and Hermione to say hello.

Holding Rose in his arms, Ron watched Viktor and Hermione hug and thought about how ridiculous it was to have been jealous of him all those years ago. The three adults talked for a long time and when Rose started fussing to be feed, Hermione excused herself. Ron continued to talk to Viktor. In the corner of his eye, he saw Harry, Charlie and Oliver huddled, watching them concernedly. Ron dismissed it, thinking they probably thought he still held a grudge and would do something stupid. He laughed; nothing could be farther from the truth. He was really enjoying catching up with Viktor.

After that day, occasionally, and for some inexplicable reason only on Thursdays, he found himself dropping in to hang out with Charlie, Oliver and Viktor. He didn’t know why, but it was just a nice, relaxing time that was completely separate to who he was as a husband and father. He seemed to feel as if he was healing by just being there.

Another inexplicable thing that he notices happening was that he felt he could talk to Charlie about things that he couldn’t talk about to either Harry and Hermione. When he told Charlie about these completed feelings he got just being there with them, Charlie laughed and said something that Ron just barely heard and didn’t understand. Charlie wouldn’t elaborate.

“Yeah, some rules are made to be broken.”


End file.
